“Now, rest,” she saith, “and I will sit
And watch that danger come not near;
Thou hast not travell’d with such heat,
But for a cause,—I ask not it:
A brother thou while resting here.”
She quits her spinning-wheel and flies
To mount the watch-tower’s signal mast;
There scans th’ horizon with keen eyes,
Till in the distant mist she spies
A band of horsemen riding fast.
She hurries back to warn her guest,
Waking him up from heavy sleep:
“If danger thou imaginest,
Under my cotton creep and rest,—
In yon dark corner lies the heap.”
The strangers come: “Say, maiden, say,
We seek the rebel Temujin,
His horse we found not far away,
A carcase of wild wolves the prey:
Hast thou the Mongol traitor seen?
“A price is set upon his head,
Who shelter give his fate will share;
Show us the youth, alive or dead,
And for thyself when thou shalt wed,
A princely dower we can spare.”
“Here at my door I sit and spin,
As simple Tartar maid should do,
I know not rebels from true men,
And never heard of Temujin,
Whom thus ye cruelly pursue.”
“Simple she seemeth, but acute,
This youth she never would betray:
Dismount, my men, and search the hut;
Words we should waste to little fruit,—
Simple were we to trust her say.”
Two spearmen from their saddles leap,
And rudely rush the hut inside.
Ah! will they search that cotton-heap,
God grant my weary guest escape!—
The thought and feeling she must hide.
